The paper..it's the only friend

on this earth that will always give me

the chance to start again...

and again...and again...and again...

so the pendulum retraces its home,

the time melts,

the lights are killed by ignorance,

and darkness takes over,

the darkness of the mirror

 

I sail my ships back to childhood,

I see the fame, the boy that

everyone called.. good.. humble...respectful

...peaceful...reserved,

the boy that was talkative,

always living with a flare of excitement,

but then a conviction proceeds

and I become a slave to everyone's words;

is it this I want or that?

the words have cracked, bruised and battered the transparence,

my mind fights the war of clarity,

and the mirror cries;

 

So I tun my back on the fast velocity

and try to trace my roots;

and the mirror cries;

my mind fights the war of clarity

the words have cracked, bruised and battered the transparence,

is it this I want or that?

and I become a slave to everyone's words;

but then a conviction proceeds

always living with a flare of excitement

the boy that was talkative

reserved...peaceful...respectful

...humble...good...

I see the fame, the boy that

everyone called,

I sail my ships back to childhood

 

the darkness of the mirror,

and the darkness takes over,

the lights are killed by ignoracne,

the time melts,

so the pendulum retraces its home

and again..and again..and again...

the chance to start again

on this earth that will always give me,

the paper...it's the only friend.

                                                            By Kakraba Afful


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